Crimson Flare
by Zadist
Summary: "Just kiss me already"he hissed, grey eyes blazing.  "Ha! don't make me laugh. Why would I kiss a stuck-up ferret like you?"  "Because I happen to be an extremely hot stuck-up ferret"   Well, I couldn't argue with that...  On hiatus
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

I let myself into the house, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and then headed upstairs to my room, since I didn't have to hang around to know that George was still at the bar. George was always at the bar, chugging away bottle after bottle of whatever new whiskey he might have spotted from a crappy little barstool in an even crapier bar.

I didn't like George. I didn't like how he blamed me for my mother's death. I didn't like how he drinks himself into a drunken stupor every other day and I didn't like how he took all of his anger and frustration out on me.

Anyway, I guess I should just stop whining and be grateful. I mean, I have a bed, a dresser and a desk. I even have a pretty decent computer with internet capabilities and a not too old stereo. All I have to do is buy my own food, clothes and toiletries. Luckily I scored a job as a teacher's assistant a few weeks back and I haven't gone a day without food since. Wow, it kinda sounds like I'm doing a commercial for a dorm room or something.

Well, live is pretty much good most of the time.

I tossed my bag on the floor, grabbed my toiletries and headed for the bathroom. I quickly closed the door behind me with a click, turned on the water and pulled off my dirty clothes. The warm water relaxed my sore muscles and I sighed in relief. I honestly didn't know how I would ever be able to survive without a warm shower after a long day at work.

I grabbed my favourite shampoo from a little glass shelf next to me and lathered my hair with the strawberry scented liquid. To my relief it washed away all of the irritating pollen that was so prominent in my curly brown hair. When the last of the suds were washed away I shaved my already smooth legs. And yeah, I know you're not supposed to do that, but I really hated that stubbly feeling you get if you haven't shaved in a while.

The pipes rumbled slightly when I turned off the faucets. I wiped any excess water from my face and then dried my tingling skin with a fluffy white towel, feeling clean and refreshed. I rummaged in my toiletries and pulled out my black hairbrush. As I brushed all those painful knots out of my shoulder waist length hair I noticed a few split ends. It seemed like I needed to make a trip to the hairdresser's soon.

I pulled my hair back into a loose bun- I'm a big believer in letting your hair dry naturally-brushed my teeth and checked my pale skin for any spots. I sighed in relief when I didn't find any and noticed that I had neglected to bring any clothes to the bathroom with me. Seriously, where was my head at today?

The towel was wrapped tightly around my lithe body before I listened for any of the tale telling signs that George was home. I didn't hear anything so I reached out, turned the golden doorknob and made a quick dash for my room only to run into a tall wall of flesh.

Before I toppled over a rough a strong hand grabbed my arm and steadied me. I looked up into the face of the same person that I had been trying to avoid for pretty much eleven years. Shit.

"Uhm...hello George" I said nervously.

"What did I say about you calling me that?" he said and I heard the barely suppressed anger in his voice.

I groaned inwardly at my mistake. "I meant to say dad"

As you might have gathered, George was my father. I haven't always disliked him you know. When I was still little he always took me to baseball games, picnics, restaurants and even ballet recitals. It all went wrong when my mother and I got into an accident. She was taking me with her to get some groceries when a truck by-passed a red light and smashed into the side of our all too fragile red Hyundai.

Anyway, she was dead on impact and luckily I had climbed in between the dashboard and seat, which saved me from any major injuries. The doctor's said that my injuries were healing very well, almost too well, and that I would be out in a day or two. I know now why I had survived, but I at first I was guilt ridden, thinking it was all my fault, but when I turned eleven I learned why they called car accidents, accidents. It's like breaking a glass. You didn't mean for it to happen, it just did. That's what my muggle friends said at least.

Anyway, back then I didn't even know that magic was real. It never even crossed my four year old mind that I was a witch and I could have avoided the whole thing by casting a simple protego.

The only problem was that George didn't seem to see it that way. He conveniently gave me the blame so that he would have an excuse for treating me so horribly. I mean, if he really thought it was my fault and he couldn't stand me anymore, he could just have given me up for adoption, right?

He grunted loudly, breaking my thoughts and sent me spiralling back to reality, and yet he still wasn't let go of my arm. I heard warning bells go off everywhere in my head when his eyes travel from my face ,down to my toes and then back up again to stare somewhere under my chin. I tried to pull away my arm, but his grip only tightened until it was almost painful. His rat-like brown eyes suddenly jumped up and stared into mine. I didn't like the strange look on his face. It was the look a cat gave to an unwitting mouse.

He leaned forward so close that I could smell the alcohol on his breath. I could taste the bile rise in the back of my throat and swallowed it before I vomited. This was wrong on so many levels and I was not going to let this develop any more than George thought it has.

"Let go of my arm Geor- I mean father. You're hurting me"

I would have liked to say that I sounded strong and confident like in the movies, but in reality my voice was shaky. I had also tried to remind him that he was my dad and I his daughter, but I wasn't used to these kinds of situations. A guy has never so much as looked at me funny before I stopped him dead in his tracks. And no, that doesn't necessarily mean that I'm a prude. It's not like I haven't kissed boys before, it's just natural to want to do that, but I am saving myself for marriage. I know with my raging hormones that my resolution probably wouldn't come true, but I gotta try, right?

Like I expected George ignored me. Men hardly ever listen to woman and unlucky for them, I'm not the kind to lie down and take their crap.

I started to struggle in his grip and when he still didn't let go I cupped my free hand, and then swiped my long nails across his face. That seemed too get his attention, but not enough, so I brought up my knee as hard as I could and smashed it into his groin. With a yelp he let go of my arm and I ran as fast as I could into my room. I turned the lock, pushed a chair under the doorknob, grabbed a lamp from my desk and held it defensively in front of me. I wasn't sure if I would actually have the guts too beat him with it if he came through the door, but I was willing to test the theory.

I flinched when he started banging on the door and yelling warnings from behind it. George wasn't the kind to make idle threats and I knew that I was going to be punished for my 'disobedience' as he calls it. Great, I've been avoiding any arguments with this man for the last month or so and now I've gone and messed it up. I can't say that I'm sorry for swiping my sharp nails across his ugly face, but I'm not liking what the consequences were going to be.

I must have stood there for ten minutes before I heard him roar in anger. He stomped down the stairs and slammed the front door behind him. My heart was probably beating a thousand times a minute so I sat down on my bed, took a few deep breaths and pulled the towel closer around me. Damn, that was unexpected.

I wasn't used to George being violent. He usually just locked me up in my room without food and water for a day or two and only let's me out for bathroom breaks. And I know that's not the best way to raise a kid, but with George at least I know what I'm gonna get. If I just get up and call childline I'll be tossed from one foster home to the other and not all foster parents are as friendly as George.

When my heart rate slowed enough for me to function properly I walked to my dresser, opened the door with shaky hands, pulled on a pair of black skinny jeans and my over sized debate camp tee shirt. Yeah, I'm on the debate team and damn proud of it.

I lied down on my bed, pressed my iPod earbuds into my ears and cranked up the volume. Ramstein screamed something foreign, but strangely creepy, into my ears and I felt better immediately. The man always seemed to give me a courage boost for some reason. It must be because I have the ability to listen to scary music in my darkening room, alone, when most people can't listen to it in the daylight surrounded by a crowd of people.

What can I say? I'm used to being alone most of the time and here I am, lying on my bed alone again.

Don't get me wrong. It's not that I like being alone most of the time, but I can't exactly call up my friends and say 'Hey, you wanna have a sleep over at my house? Just stay away from the weird man that smells like a hobo, he has been known to bite"

For some reason I didn't think that, that would go over so well.

Ramstein faded away and was replaced by a piece written by Vivaldi. I know it's kind of weird to have metal and classical music mixed, but I liked to have a large selection. Just imagine you only eat pizza for a whole month and nothing else. It's great in the beginning, but after a while the pizza starts to taste about as good as a cardboard box. But imagine having an entire buffet table in front of you, with bacon, French fries, burgers, ice cream, chocolates and about everything else you could imagine.

There is so much variety that you never get bored with one flavour. And that is how I like my music.

As I hummed with the music my stomach gave a sudden loud growl. All that thinking of food had made me hungry. I got to my feet, pushed aside the chair, unlocked the door and slinked downstairs toward the kitchen. I felt around for the light switch then flicked it on and squinted a bit at the sudden change in brightness.

The kitchen was small and neat like the rest of the house. A wooden table and chairs stood in the middle on top of the chipping tile floor. I opened the fade white fridge, took out a cup of yoghurt, slammed the door shut and peeled off the foil lid on the container. Before I trashed it, I licked the lid clean and rummaged in the drawer for a spoon. I loved strawberry yoghurt-actually anything strawberry-and it's a good source of calcium. I think.

I didn't drink milk at all, so I was always trying to buy things to make up for the calcium loss. I didn't even drink milk in my coffee or tea. I didn't really know why I don't drink milk, but I think it has something to do with drinking something that comes from an animal's boob. Every time I see milk it makes me think of a man hanging from his mouth from a cow's udder. I know it's weird since I eat eggs and they come from a chickens butt.

Anyway, as I think over my strange phobias I searched for something suitable to watch on TV. Finally I find my favourite show ever, Vampire Journals. Ohmygosh, this was best cheer me up I could have gotten. I think that Deman is so much sexier and vampire-ish than his brother Stafen, which is such a vampire spaz. And don't even get me started on Alene. If I found out that my boyfriend was a vampire I would have jumped his bones a long time ago, not go on about how upset I was that he had lied to me.

After I got me some eye candy, I stifled a yawn and headed up to bed. George wouldn't return until tomorrow so I only needed to worry about the party for now. I pulled out my wand-yeah I've got one of those, jealous?- and quickly practiced the few spells that I had gotten for homework over the summer. A sudden wave of nostalgia hit me. I missed Hogwarts. I missed Harry and Ron. I missed my own kind.

I know it sounded strange too classify witches and wizards as another species and it sounded terribly biased, but muggles are really so very different from us. When I am at Hogwarts I can taste the magic in the air and it sort of gives me a boost, but without it it's almost like my essence weakens. It was draining too be around muggles for too long. The only person who even came close to understanding was Harry, but he was gone along with Ron in search of Horcruxes. Bloody brilliant.

I haven't seen anyone from the magical world in almost two months and it was taking its toll. At the moment I would even be happy to see Malfoy.

My thoughts continued on the same pattern until I turned out the light and let the darkness envelope me.

**Wahoo! Chapter 1 is up (: **

**And would you please review? Pwetty pwease with a cherry on top (-o-)**

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	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Okay, I know it's been a while, but exams have begun and I need to study.**

**I don't own Harry Potter.**

I yawned widely and raised a hand to rub my burning eyes. Ugh, I was so not a morning person. I shook my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts then grabbed my toiletries-remembering my clothes this time-and headed for the bathroom. I returned feeling much better, but I still looked at my bed longingly. I mentally slapped myself, and then resolutely turned my back to the bed so it wouldn't be such a distraction anymore.

I grabbed a seat in front of the mirror, snatched my hairbrush and tried too untangle the nest that my hair had become over night. A sharp shot of pain ran from the roots of my hair to my eyes and I cried out. I glared at the brush that had just pulled out a bunch of my hair. Fine, we'll do it my way then.

My desk drawer squeaked when I slipped it open and pulled out a large book that Lavender had given too me for Christmas. On the front it read **Charming hair for charming witches** written by U.R Hopeless. With a flick of my wand it opened on page 257 and showed a design of a familiar woman with exceptionally curly hair. I copied the flowing motions with my wand illustrated on the yellowing pages and muttered the incantation.

Warmth spread across my head and for one terrifying moment I thought that I had set my hair on fire. I shrieked and patted at the non existing flames. Luckily the heat disappeared and I quickly turned too see what must have went horribly wrong. I was surprised too see that my normally crazy frizz hair was completely straightened out. I smiled brightly at my reflection and made a mental note to thank Lavender properly. I then added some mascara, a bit of light pink lip-gloss and applied some eyeliner around my hazel eyes.

I stared at my reflection for a while and felt the sudden urge to cry. No matter what I do I would never be as pretty as a Victoria's Secret model. And yes, I know most of those women were photo shopped, but I still felt slightly jealous and annoyed. At least I'm not a total dunce. I mean, I could lose a few pounds if I did more crunches and squats, but honestly I would much rather stay a healthy size eight than give up any of my comfort food.

Oh, and if only I had higher cheek bones. I didn't really know what that meant, but all the girls at school wanted those, especially Lavender and Romilda. I shrugged and looked at my outfit in the mirror. The black skinny jeans had small chains hanging from the zippers and the light pink tank top matched my day-glow pink high tops nicely. I loved my high tops. They were the best dancing shoes ever, especially after I've walked them in.

Slowly, I looped the silver necklace my mother had given to me when I was three around my wrist as it didn't fit around my neck any more, then grabbed my bag and headed toward the kitchen.

I grabbed a bowl, added some cornflakes then poured strawberry yoghurt all over it. Like I said I don't like milk. I quickly wolfed down my cereal, quickly washed out my bowl and left it on the dripper to dry. I know that you don't actually call it a dripper, but new words make life fun, don't they?

I glanced at the clock hanging from the faded yellow wall and groaned when I saw that it's only ten-thirty. The going away party only started in four hours. I pulled out my iPod from my bag, shoved the buds into my ears, cranked up the volume and jumped into action when Adam Lambert asked me what I wanted from him.

The house was a mess and I might as well clean it now before the arse comes back. I picked up all the empty beer cans, bottles and cigarette buds lying around in the living room. I wished that George would use an ashtray once in a while or even give up the horrible habit. The entire house smelled of beer and smoke.

I went around the house, cleaning, vacuuming, picking up clothes and doing laundry for the next three hours. After a while my mouth felt dry, so I grabbed a Monster from the fridge, cracked open the top and chugged it down. Monster was the best energy drink ever and I was addicted. Yeah, I know it's not exactly healthy, but I drink so much water that it's diluted. I think.

I sat down on the cigarette burnt couch and flicked through channels to pass the time. After another ten minutes or so, I grabbed my bag and headed outside to catch my lift. And yes, I do have a drivers licence, I just don't have a car. Yet.

I stood on the side-walk for about ten minutes, before I started to worry. If Lina didn't hurry up we're going to be late. Lina was my best friend in the muggle world and being late wasn't like her. She had a thing about being late and had left me to walk to the mall on many occasions, especially when I've over slept.

Luckily I had bought a cell phone a while back. If I was completely honest with myself I would say that I hated the thing. It was as big as a brick and completely uncomfortable to carry around. I could just as well have stuffed an owl into my pocket. I typed in Lina's phone number and waited for the stupid jingle to end.

There was a loud click and a hoarse voice answered on the other line.

"Where are you? " I said feeling slightly annoyed

"_I'm sorry Leah, but I can't pick you up today. I've got like a major cold."_

"Oh no, what about the party tonight?"I asked as I hitched my bag across my shoulder and walked in the direction of Mike's house. At least it wasn't too hot out so I wouldn't be all sweaty when I got there.

"_Can't make it. Maybe next time, I gotta go. My moms bugging me to eat some of her mystery stew or whatever it is. Urgh...I think its moving"_

I grimaced, feeling sorry for Lina. Her mother must be using her as a test subject for her herbal remedies again.

"Hope you feel better soon. See ya friend"

"_See ya"_

I shoved my phone into my pocket in case some loser got the stupid idea into their head to mug me. I said stupid because I was rather good at jujitsu and kick-boxing. Before Harry and Ron left in search of the Horcruxes I had started taking courses in various fighting styles. I had thought it might come in handy if my wand broke or got taken away by those idiot Death Eaters. Anyway, I was just the best at those two so I pursued them further.

I heard the deep boom of base in the not-so-far distance and hurried my pace. Even though I was sad that Lina wouldn't be at the farewell party I was still very excited. As I got closer my movements became more cadenced as I walked to the beat of the music. This was gonna be great!

I took a right, gave a fleeting look at the brightly decorated house and then walked straight through the front door without knocking.

My ears were bombarded with loud music and I narrowed my eyes slightly to make out the surroundings. Everything was enveloped in a thick mist-Mike probably hired a smoke machine or twelve- and a multi-coloured laser was the only light in the house. I pushed past sweaty teen dancers and groaned in annoyance when I couldn't get through the moving wall of flesh. In an attempt to calm my flaring temper I took a deep breath and counted to ten, then moved with the crowd.

In a series of twirls, slides and steps I finally slid off of the improvised dance floor and into the living room. I noticed a while ago that this is the easiest way to get through a crowd in a club and soon I was out and running up the wooden steps to the second floor.

I sighed in relief when I saw a familiar face snogging in front of the bathroom door. I caught her eye and she grinned at me before she pushed away from the unfamiliar guy-ignoring his protests-and headed in my direction.

"Hey friend, not mingling tonight?" asked Michelle.

"Depends on what you mean by mingling" I said and looked pointedly in the direction of her latest conquest.

Michelle isn't what you may call a stuffed shirt. With her platinum blonde hair, green eyes and petite figure she was beautiful. The only problem is that she knew it, which made her rather careless.

She laughed as her eyes followed mine "That's just a bit of fun, nothing serious"

"That's what I'm afraid of" I mumbled. Her bits of fun usually got very serious. I decided to sway the conversation into a different direction.

"Have you seen Mike?"

"Yeah, the last time I saw him he was hanging out by the pool" She said sounding disinterested. I didn't comment on her cold attitude. She and Mike used to date over the summer and I heard that it ended badly. Let's just say that he caught her in a rather uncompromising situation.

"Thanks" I said and headed in the direction of the pool, leaving her to her own devises.

The clear blue water shimmered in the light of the full moon and I took a deep breath. I loved the smell of chlorine. Yeah, I know it's kind of weird, but to me it just screams summer, even though it was officially Autumn tomorrow. I looked around and only saw a couple of stragglers taking in the fresh air.

No Mike. Fine then, I'll just have to find him my way. I retreated to a deserted corner behind the house and pulled out my wand. I muttered accio Mike under my breath. I had never tried to Accio a person, but I really needed to speak with Mike. A few seconds passed then I heard footsteps coming in my direction. I smiled at my success. I really thought that it wouldn't work.

"Oh, there you are" I said acting surprised when Mike stumbled around the corner.

"I had a feeling you would be here" He said looking triumphant

I made a show of looking around me "You had a feeling that I would be standing alone in a dark corner behind your house, when there's a party going on inside. Wow, now I know what you really think of me"

"I didn't mean...I just meant-"he ran a hand through his light brown hair and smiled nervously.

"I'm just kidding. No reason to get your knickers in a twist"

"My knickers...Are you speaking in tongues again?" He said and raised his hand to take my temperature.

I laughed and pushed his hand away. "Don't be an idiot. If you had read that book I had given you, you wouldn't be so bad at understanding me"

Mike originally came from America. He moved to London a few months ago and was still a little behind on our lingo.

"You're such a nerd. No one reads anymore "He said and laughed at my indignant expression "Come on, let's get inside. This place is giving me the creeps"

"Sure, whatever" I said not really getting what he found so creepy.

We walked into the misty house, headed for the drinks table and grabbed some of the red fruit punch. I took a sip from the polyester cup and coughed violently when the liquid burned all the way down my throat and rested warmly in my stomach. Someone must have spiked it, because that was definitely not pure fruit juice. I gave Mike a puzzled look, but he just shrugged and finished his drink in three large gulps. How the hell did he do that? He regarded me, his eyes shining with a challenge.

I tried not to look too impressed and chugged the rest of the punch without flinching. I was not the type of person to back out of a challenge and I was definitely not going to lose to Mike. The Gryffindor in me was too strong to for that.

I ignored the burning sensation in the back of my throat and smiled when he raised a brow. Oh yeah, one point for me. As I set down the cup I saw Mike stare at something somewhere behind me and followed his gaze. My breath hitched in my throat when I come face to face with the person that I never would have expected too see mingling with muggles, let alone be in the same vicinity.

Malfoy stood in the middle of my muggle friend's living room, considering me. His magic danced playfully through my hair and to anyone it would have looked like my hair was just being ruffled by a breeze.

Gone was the slicked up parted hair and was replaced by unruly locks, much like Harry's only longer, with the unmistakeable white blonde that only witches and wizards seemed to be able to possess. His bangs stopped just above his ice cold grey eyes. My eyes travelled over the smooth planes of his face and seem to be glued to his smirking luscious lips. Without realising it I ran my tongue across my own dry lips.

For a moment –Well, a moment to me least- I stared at his black leather jacket with chains attached to the zippers- My stomach fluttered when somewhere in the back of my mind I realised that our outfits matched- black jeans and yes, steel tipped combat boots. I shook my head in disbelief. His wand must be hidden in a wrist sheathe.

I couldn't believe that this was Malfoy. He was supposed to be a scrawny, slimy, arrogant little ferret, not a devastatingly handsome devil-may-care type. Suddenly it dawned on me that Malfoy had never been scrawny. He played quidditch for goodness sake's and they practiced for hours on end to hone their skill and turn their bodies into weapons. He wasn't so little either as he was at least 6'1, a few inches taller than Ron, only he wasn't so ungainly. And he didn't look the least bit slimy to me, but he was arrogant. Oh yes, it would take a jack hammer to deflate his ego.

Shock ran through my system when I felt an arm drape over my shoulders and pull me close. I was just about to freak out when I noticed that it was only Mike being all jealous. He must have seen me staring...which meant that Malfoy must have too. I groaned and hid my reddening face against Mike's chest. I could be such a spaz sometimes.

I could almost feel Mike's victorious smile, so I pulled away from him so that he didn't get the wrong idea. He was a great friend, but that was where it ended. The only problem was that he didn't seem to get the concept.

Malfoy gave me an amused look and said something, but his voice was drowned out by the loud music.

For some strange reason I actually wanted to know what he had to say, so shrugged and pointed in the direction of the kitchen. I knew for a fact that Mike's kitchen was sound proofed and we would be able to talk without interruption. Don't ask me why it's soundproofed. I just know, because he had to give up two months allowance and wouldn't stop moaning about it.

He nodded in understanding and I was just about to head in that direction when, to my annoyance, Mike grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor. I almost instantly lost sight of Malfoy and was about to give Mike a piece of my mind and maybe the taste of my fist, but Malfoy was hardly worth it.

There were so many people that I would probably never find him anyway, so I came to a decision to enjoy what was left of the night. It was our farewell party after all and the last time I would see everyone until Christmas so I was determined to enjoy it, even if it is spent with a slightly horny Mike.

I slowly moved my hips to the beat of the music and raised my arms in the air and laughed when I saw Mike shake around like a crazy person and hit another guy against the head with one of his arms. I danced away from the blooming fight and lost myself to the music.

After a while I was so wrapped up in my own little world, that all I was aware of was me, the music and the two strong hands that were resting on my hips. Wait...what hands?

I tried to spin around and see to whom these offending limbs belonged to, but I was held firmly in place. Just as I was trying to think of any self defence moves, I felt hot breath in my ear and shivered.

"Weren't you supposed to meet me in the kitchen?" a husky voice whispered into my ear.

I felt butterflies erupt in my stomach and this time I did spin around. I smiled stupidly when I realized that my night wasn't spoiled after all. Malfoy took a step back and held out one hand which I took immediately, allowing him to pull me into the kitchen.

As soon as the door closed behind us the music was cut off and I propped myself onto one of the kitchen counters. I thankfully took a sip of Vicious fruit from the bottle I had found in the fridge.

An awkward silence hung in the air, so I cleared my throat and said "So what are you doing here, anyway?"

"Aren't I allowed to crash a party or two?" he asked and raised a perfectly arched brow. I couldn't help but find his arrogant behaviour endearing, even though I knew I was supposed to hate it, but I could feel my spirit strengthening with every second I spent with another magical being. That and the alcohol was starting to kick in.

"Yeah, but I didn't take you to be the kind to hang out with muggles"

A look of shock crossed his features, but it was gone as soon as it had arrived.

"You're a witch" he stated. "I should have known. I can taste the magic in the air"

I gave him a strange look "Of course I'm a witch, Malfoy. Though, you would probably argue that point"

A flash of emotion crossed his eyes, but he quickly hid it behind his trademark smirk.

"My reputation precedes me, I see. As you seem to know my name, maybe you would be so kind as to inform me on yours"

A flare of anger raced through my body. He didn't recognise me! How dare he not remember me after all those years of harassment? He had me in tears more times than I cared to remember!

"Well, if you are too blind to recognise the girl that punched you in third year while she was sitting right in front of you, it clearly mustn't have hurt all that much!" I slid off the counter and stalked toward him, fist raised, "Shall we try again! Maybe, this time I could try to make it more memorable!"

I stopped about three inches from him and swung my fist in the general direction of his jaw, but before it made contact his hand closed around my wrist, stopping my blow easily. I froze in shock. No one could have stopped me that effortlessly! I was a black belt for Merlin's sake!

"Bloody hell! What did I do wrong!" Malfoy yelled, clearly surprised.

"What did he do wrong! What did he do wrong, he asks!" My voice had risen to a screech uncannily close to Pansy's. As soon as her name crossed my thoughts, I tried to calm myself, before I really started a brawl. He really didn't do anything on purpose. He just forgot one of his school rivals, is all.

I glared at him for a while, until he looked at me. And, I mean really looked at me.

His eyes seemed to roam over my features from my eyes down to my feet and up again. I didn't mind much. It would have been a different story if he had started at my feet. I feel a man recognises you as a person if he starts with your face. Only a guy looking for a quick poke and tickle would start with your feet.

"Granger?" he asked, sounding surprised.

''Yes" I said haughtily.

"You look different" he said as if that explained everything.

"You look different too"

"Good different I hope" he said with a slight smile.

"Quite" Denying it would have been as good as lying.

Another awkward silence fell over us.

"I'm leaving now" I said. This was just too weird.

"Alright" he whispered.

I stood there and tried to figure out what he was thinking behind those ice cold pools of grey, but they were emotionless. Minutes ticked by as we tried to figure out what the other was thinking, but neither of us moved. I was very aware of Malfoy's hand on my wrist.

"I thought you were leaving" he said arrogantly, a light smile playing on his lips.

"I can't. You're still crushing my wrist" I said and shook my arm around.

"Oh, yeah" he said and slackened his grip.

As soon as he as his finger relaxed I twisted myself free and headed for the door. I suddenly felt very tired and desperately wanted to go home. I threw open the door and rushed for the front door.

I let out a sigh of relief when the cool night air enveloped me. This day had been a total waste of make-up.

"Wait!"

I jumped when the voice broke the silence.

"What!" I yelled as I spun around. Couldn't I have a second of peace!

Malfoy slowed his steps and came to a stop next to me, seeming highly offended.

"We'll, I was just going to tell you that you had dropped your wand in a house full of muggles and that I had kindly swiped it up before anyone could see, but if you don't want it I'll go put it back"

"Oh, I'm sorry Malfoy. I've just been a little worked up lately"

"You're apologising to me?" he asked, surprise evident in his features.

"Take it or leave it. This is probably the last time you will ever hear me apologise to you ever again"

"Then I accept your apology. And while we are being so civil I might as well walk you home"

"Uhm, okay" I whispered as we fell in stride.

I would have liked to say that the walk home was romantic and that when we had parted at my door we had kissed goodnight, but it wasn't like that at all. The whole way home was filled with awkward silences and on numerous occasions I had stubbed my toe and tripped over absolutely nothing. What made it worse was that Malfoy seemed perfectly at ease. Each step that he took was proud, graceful even and he was ever patient with my clumsiness.

When we finally got to my house, George was waiting for me on the porch, a beer in one hand and the newspaper in the other.

"Get your arse in the house and tell pretty boy to fuck off. I'm not running a brothel"

"Yes, dad" I yelled back, red in the face.

Malfoy looked appalled at George's state, but he didn't comment. He probably thought that all muggles were in this condition.

"Don't mind him, he's just-"I struggled to find the right word.

"Filthy and inebriated low-life scum?" Malfoy suggested.

"Don't forget perverted, greedy, narrow-minded arsehole"

We both shared a look, and then burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

"Anyway, thanks for walking me home" I said when I got my breath back.

"Sure, no problem" he said and lightly touched my shoulder before he apparated with a loud crack.

The last thought I had before I entered the dark house was, that Malfoy was alright for a Death Eater...

**You like? If I get at least five reviews I'll put up Chapter 3. It's already written so I'm just waiting on all the awesome readers!**

**R&R**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**This chapter contains violence and scenes that may be disturbing to sensitive readers, so if you can't take it don't read it...**

**Chapter song, Tourniquet by Evanescence**

**I don't own Harry Potter...**

I flinched when George slammed the front door behind him and locked it with a click that echoed throughout the empty house. He turned around to face me-stumbling a bit in the process-and stared at me with crazy eyes. You know, the eyes that show way too much white and way too little colour. Instinctively, I took a step backward. I would give that look an eight for creepy on a one to ten scale.

He had never acted this way before and I didn't understand why he was this mad about a stupid party. He usually didn't care if I got home a little late...or at all. Could the whole walking home with Draco have set him off? Maybe I should just go to my room before there was a repeat on yesterday's events.

As I made a move for the stairs he grabbed my arm and shoved me backwards so hard that my head collided against the concrete wall. Yeah, no plywood walls in this house.

A crazy light show exploded before my eyes and I tried to blink them away as I slid to the floor. Whoah, I've never hit my head that hard before.

Wet warmth spread in my hair and I reached behind my head, then probed lightly with my fingers to find the source of the heat. I flinched when my fingers come in contact with a small gash just above my neck. The skin must have split when my head bounced against the wall for a second time. Ouchy...

My vision slowly cleared as I tried to blink the blurriness away, and everything seemed a little too bright even though there weren't any lights on. George was pacing in front of me and he was muttering under his breath. I could only catch a few words like ungrateful, whore and share. His brown work boots clomped loudly on the soft carpet and left dirty smudges that I would have to clean later.

In one quick sweep he bent down next to me and breathed heavily on my face. The tell tale smell of stale beer hit my nostrils hit my nose and I gagged. Without warning he grabbed my chin and forced me to look into his muddy brown eyes.

"You forced my hand. I don't want to do this, but you give me no choice" I frowned and tried to get his hand off me. What the hell was he talking about?

Suddenly and without permission my head snapped to the side and a sudden searing ache spread across my cheek. Did George just slap me? Did my father just slap me!

Before I realized what was happening I was pulled to my feet, grabbed roughly by the shoulders and before I could orientate myself George shook me so hard that my teeth chattered loudly.

"Why are you making me do this to you!" he yelled into my face and threw me to the ground. I tried to catch my fall with my hands and whimpered when the carpet burned the skin off of my palms. That was so going to hurt in the morning.

Unfortunately my mind was pulled away from my searing hands when something hard connected with my ribs.

My scream was cut off by another hard blow to my stomach. I could feel my eyes tear up as I tried to catch my breath and orientate myself. The tiled floor pushed uncomfortably into my shoulder blades, so I must have been lying on my back in the kitchen as it was the only room with tiles. My breath came out in harsh puffs and it felt like I was just hit by a car.

I groaned loudly when George straddled my stomach, grabbed hold of my neck and slowly squeezed down.

I clawed at his hands and thrashed around wildly, but that only seemed to excite him. The son of a bitch was enjoying this! My vision slowly faded as my air supply ran out and my body must have stopped moving since I couldn't feel it or the pain anymore.

At first I thought that this was where my story ended. That I would be reunited with my mother in only a few seconds and together we would watch George burn in the darkest recesses of Hell. Yeah, I know that I'm not really a religious person, but people like George had to go somewhere and it sure wasn't called Fluffy Bunny Land.

Anyway, I was cheated out of escaping the pain in the arse that life had become when the weight on my throat disappeared and I drug a lungful of sweet oxygen into my body. The feeling returned to my limbs and I regretted it instantly when a sharp shooting pain travelled...everywhere.

I almost forgot about George until he grabbed a fistful of my hair and forced his lips onto mine. My brain didn't seem to want to process what was happening to me anymore. This was the man that gave me live, that taught me how to ride a bike and tied my shoe laces for me. He was the man that bought me ice-cream on hot summer's days and sang to me when I had a nightmare in the middle of the night. How could he do this to me?

This wasn't right. This was gross, wrong, repulsive, disgusting and sickening. I just laid there in shock, trying to figure out what the hell was going on until he shoved his tongue into my mouth. I could feel the bile rise up in my throat and finally Ihad enough.

**I **bit down on his tongue so hard that **I** tore through the offending muscle and spat out the blood and flesh that was gushing into my mouth. George roared in pain and rolled off of me. I spun onto my side and retched violently as some of the salty iron liquid poured down my throat. When I was done with the whole vomiting routine I pushed myself painfully to my feet. Blood pooled on the white tiles around George as he writhed on the floor, but he quickly got past the initial shock and pain.

He roared in fury and clumsily got to his feet. I quickly drew up on my jujitsu training, fell into stance and faced him head on. That seemed to surprise him a bit, but he didn't back down. I waited for him to make the first move and was rewarded for my patience. He ran straight at me, so I dodged to the side and tripped the piece of shit.

His face met the ground with a satisfying crunch and before I could even think of rejoicing his hand shot up and grabbed my ankle. I kicked his hand with my free foot and heard his fingers crack as they broke one by one, but he still didn't let go. In one hard tug he had me on the floor and crawled on top of me. He leaned in for what must have been the beginning of another mouth rape, but before he even got close I shoved the heel of my hand into his nose, jamming it into his brain.

A stream of blood fell onto my face as I struggled to get out from under the now lifeless form on top of me. When I finally got out and stared down at the bloodied body. I felt a rush of pleasure envelope me and I smiled widely-blood sticking to my white even teeth-at the sight before me.

Right then and there I promised myself that any man who dared raise his hand at me again would end up drowning in a puddle of their own blood. Just because I was a woman didn't mean that I was weak, damnit!

"I am woman, hear me roar!" I cheered in a slightly hoarse voice and then gave a slightly unhealthy giggle. I've always wanted to say that.

"My, my, my, I never would have thought I could be proud of a Gryffindor, but after that, how could my heart not swell?"

I spun around and came face to face with the ever so handsome Draco Malfoy. My smile grew wider when I saw my wand in his hand and I felt the cooling blood dribble down my chin. I was just wondering where that had gone to. He handed me the wand and I had a moment to admire his beautiful long fingered hands before he shoved them into his jeans pocket.

"So, what are you going to do for clean-up? You cannot leave that filth lying there"

Hmmm, good question. I picked up the phone, punched in the number with shaky hands and raised the ringing device to my ear. As soon as the bored sounding man answered the phone I yelled my name and address into his ear in an attempt to sound frantic, then slammed the phone back onto the receiver.

Now that that was taken care of I should probably make up an excuse for my obviously battered body...oh, and probably Georges state too. An accident maybe? No, I would never be able to explain that mess as an accident without making the idiots- I mean paramedics-suspicious. A break in might have been more convincing. I could always tell them that George came to my rescue after a burglar beat me with a baseball bat and in the process he had tripped down the stairs. That would explain my bruises and Georges tongue, but it was a rather lame cover story.

I heard sirens in the distance and jumped into action. The story would have to do for now. Besides, simple ideas were better to remember.

Without pause I grabbed the baseball bat we stashed in the cupboard last year and smashed it into a vase, lamp and then dunked it in the congealing blood. I raised it to my eyes and nodded in approval. This will have to do.

Just as I sprawled myself out on the floor I remembered that Malfoy was here. Shit, I must really be out of it.

The man in question rolled his eyes at me and placed his hands on his hips, looking damn near edible...if only I had a camera.

"Get up, you are coming with me"

"Y shud ib comb witchu?" Merlin's Pants, was that my voice!

"You look like hell and you probably feel the same, so get your arse up. We have got to get out of here before the muggles show"

I tried to sit up and failed miserably. At least the pureblooded prig bent down next to me and picked me up bridal-style in stead of making me stand. And yeah, I know I should have put up more of a fight than that, but apparently my adrenaline decided that it was going on vacation, so I was left feeling drained and in agony. Great, just great.

My heart jumped in my throat when the sirens got ten times louder and a car squealed into the driveway.

"Hold on" Malfoy whispered and together we dissaparated into the early morning air...only to reappear in the middle of an absolutely gigantic bedroom.

The room was rectangular and the walls were painted the darkest shade of black that I had ever seen. There were no photos or clothes or anything personal to decorate the place. The only colour in the room was a few comfy looking bottle green sofas in front of a roaring big fireplace and the green and silver bedding on a king sized bed. I don't really know why the decor fascinated me in my current state and I didn't really care, just as long as I got some vicodin soon.

Suddenly the world lurched into motion and started spinning again. I snapped my eyes shut and tried not to be sick.

"You still with me, Granger ?"

I thought about the question a bit longer than I was supposed to, but finally managed to crack open my eyes and grunt in ascent. Not very classy or lady-like, but I still didn't care about anything except my aching body.

"Well, you need sleep, so I can work my magic. I am just going to put you out for a while, okay?"

"Uhmph" I said when my head hit a terribly hard feather pillow and my body followed to be swallowed up by an extremely lumpy mattress.

"I'll take that as a yes"

Before I could even think of replying my world was engulfed by a wave of darkness...

**Crappy ending, I know, but I just couldn't wait to get on with the next chapter ( :**


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